


john: have a sleepover

by orphan_account



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Smut, Trans Character, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-16
Updated: 2019-09-16
Packaged: 2020-10-06 09:20:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20504597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: John sleeps over at the Strider's.





	john: have a sleepover

“So, I was thinking that we could start off with this new FPS I got, and - “ Dave stiffens the instant he opens the door, pausing in the middle of shrugging his backpack off. “Oh, shit, Bro’s home.”

The message you just sent from your phone (leaving school now, we’ll be there soon! can’t wait to see you hehe) feels like it’s burning a hole in the pocket of your shorts as you feign surprise. “Aw, didn’t you say that he had a gig this weekend, though?”

Dave sighs and steps the rest of the way through the door. You both drop your bags and you kick off your shoes before he says, “I guess he must’ve canceled it. Hopefully he’ll just leave us alone.”

(are you sure you don’t mind missing your thing?)

(ok, as long as you don’t leave me alone! *wink*)

“Yeah, hopefully,” you echo.

“Hopefully what?” the couch says. Or, well, not the couch, but the tall man currently lounging on it, shades perched at the perfect angle to make your pulse quicken and hair gelled just enough for you to want to muss it up. 

“Nothing,” Dave grumbles. “What happened to your gig?”

Bro stands up from the couch and flashsteps over to stand right in front of you and Dave. “Canceled,” he says. “Don’t be too loud, I’ll be in my room working.”

As he speaks, his head is turned towards Dave, but based off of past experience, you’re pretty sure that his eyes are meeting yours underneath his shades. You feel your cheeks flush slightly at the thought. It’s only thanks to the many hours you’ve spent with a fairly unguarded Bro that clue you into the small upturn of his lips when he notices you blush. 

“Okay,” Dave says, in his patented Cool Kid Ending A Conversation voice. He turns away from Bro and heads towards his room, motioning for you to follow. “C’mon, dude, let’s go.”

You follow, but not before sharing one last look with Bro. He tilts his head down just enough for you to see the faint orange glow of his eyes, a nod that says, See you later, and then he’s flashstepping into his room. You smile to yourself as you walk after Dave - you just got to see Bro Strider’s eyes, a sight that never fails to make your heart do flips in your chest.

“John. Stop fuckin’ ogling my brother and come on,” Dave says impatiently.

You laugh in a way that you hope doesn’t sound too nervous. “Ew! No offense, Dave, but I’m going to have to take a hard pass on ogling your Bro!”

Dave doesn’t bother to respond, clearly done with his joke as he steps into his room and grabs a disc off of the top of his console. “Okay, dude, check it out. My Little Pony 3, only two days after it came out.”

You stare at your best friend, then at the bright pink game in his hand, then at the mental image of the dictionary entry for irony that you always keep on hand. Then you say, “I thought you said you had a new FPS?”

“Yeah, this is it,” Dave says. His tone indicates that he’s about to remind you what irony is. “FPS stands for Friendly Pony Simulator, alright, now let’s play.”

“I….”

“-Ronically, yes, duh,” Dave interrupts. He hands you a controller and you drop down next to him on the bed.

All things said, My Little Pony 3 - Everything is Magic When You Have Friends is actually a pretty fun game. (Ironically.) (You think.) You and Dave end up playing for hours, and you don’t even think about Bro until Dave yawns and says, “Shit, man, I think I need to head to bed.”

“Okay!” you say. You drop your controller, flexing your stiff fingers a little bit, and smile. Not that you don’t enjoy hanging out with Dave, of course, but… let’s just say that sleeping over at the Striders’ gets better once Dave’s asleep. “I’m pretty tired too, I’ll go change into my pajamas real quick.”

Dave’s already switching into a ratty custom SBaHJ shirt for the night, so you head down the hall without waiting for him to reply. 

On your way to the bathroom, you pause and knock on Bro’s door - the signal you’ve developed to let him know that Dave’s about to go to sleep. He knocks back a second later, and you feel like a giddy thirteen year old as you go to change.

The bathroom is small and filled with Smuppets, of course, but you manage to clear enough space to stand and see yourself in the mirror. You wince slightly at your reflection - your eyes are a bit red from staring at Dave’s TV for so long, and your hair is an absolute mess that serves to make you look closer to thirteen than your actual age of seventeen.

You try and pat your hair down some with a bit of water, but it doesn’t really help too much. You sigh to yourself - you hate looking so young around Bro, especially now that he’s made it very clear that your age isn’t why he’s interested in you. He says he just likes you for _you_, which you’ve actually sort of come to believe. You just wish that you looked older, so that you two could go out on public dates without getting weird looks. It’s not even that Bro looks _old_, of course, he looks like he’s in his late twenties.

You know, come to think of it, you don’t actually know how old Bro is. The two of you have been secretly dating for about three months, ever since you sleep-walked into his room one night and he confronted you about the, ah, _admiring_ stares you’ve pretty much always given him. Every sleepover with Dave since then has been a perfect mix of hanging with your best friend and sneaking off to cuddle and kiss his older brother. 

You hope that one day soon Bro will trust you enough to tell you more about him, like his first name, for example. You know why he hasn’t told you that - he doesn’t want to risk you using it in front of Dave and causing him to get suspicious. But you do wish you could know how old he is, even if just so you know how disappointed in you your dad will be once he finds out. 

“John?” Dave’s voice is muffled but unmistakable on the other side of the bathroom door. “Did you get buried in Smuppets or something?”

“Oh, uh, no, I just got distracted, sorry! I’ll be right out!” 

You take off your binder and change into your pajamas - a large Squiddles tee and gray sweatpants - quickly and head back out into the hall, where Dave is waiting for you.

“C’mon, dude, I don’t want Bro to get mad because we’re making so much noise at one am,” he says, so you stay quiet and follow him back down the hall. You smile to yourself, though, because you know Bro won’t get mad at all.

You and Dave climb into bed, and judging by the soft snores that arise from the other side of the bed within ten minutes, Dave is fast asleep. After glancing over at him one more time to be absolutely sure, you pull out your phone and open Pesterchum.

ectoBiologist [EB] began pestering  timaeusTestified [TT]

EB: hey bro!!  
EB: dave just went to sleep, so if you’re still awake i can hang out now!  
TT: Of course I’m still awake, dude, I want to see you!   
TT: Come on in whenever you want.  


timaeusTestified [TT] began pestering  ectoBiologist [EB] 

You shut your phone off and lay it carefully down on the nightstand before slipping out of bed and down the hall to Bro’s room, moving as quietly as possible even though it’s unlikely that Dave will wake up.

Bro’s door is already cracked open when you arrive, and your gentle knock causes it to swing forward enough for you to see Bro sitting at his desk and working on a Smuppet. For a moment, you stand still and watch his fingers as they guide the needle and thread through the bright red fabric and god, even his _hands_ are hot.

“Hi,” you say softly as you tear your gaze away from his deft fingers. “Um, how are you?”

Bro looks up from his work and greets you with a smile. “I’m much better now that you’re here, c’mon in, babe.”

You step into his room, pulling the door shut behind you, and flop onto his bed with a soft yawn. “Whatcha working on?”

“Nothing I can’t work on later,” Bro says. He pushes the Smuppet towards the back of his desk, stands up, and turns to face you. “Want to watch a movie?”

“Only if it has Nicholas Cage in it,” you say, sitting up on your elbows and grinning at him. God, you always forget how gorgeous he is until you see him up close like this. His blond hair shines in the soft light of his room, and for once, he’s wearing a loose tank top instead of his usual polo shirt. 

Bro groans. “John. Nicholas Cage’s face is the last thing I want to see right now. He’s the _worst_ mood-killer.”

That short circuits your brain just a little bit - there’s a _mood_? As in the type of mood that can be killed?

You’re not stupid, of course, you know plenty about sex and you know that Bro has plenty of experience, but he’s always insisting that you get to set the pace in the relationship and that you two should wait. You’ve been fine with obliging to that (mostly), but if he’s opening the door… “Wait, if he’s the worst mood-killer, wouldn’t that mean he’s the best face to see right now? Because he does such a bad job of killing the mood?”

_What a sexy response, idiot,_you tell yourself._ Great job._

“You’re such a little shit sometimes,” Bro says, but he’s laughing and reaching for Raising Arizona, so you know he’s not actually annoyed. 

Once the movie’s playing, Bro flashsteps onto the bed and wraps an arm around your shoulders. It takes a bit of rearranging, but the two of you eventually end up leaning against the headboard, with Bro’s arm around your shoulders, your head on his shoulders, and your legs tangled under the blankets. 

You take a deep breath, smiling at the faint scent of Bro’s cologne, and shift one of your hands to rest on Bro’s thigh in an uncharacteristically direct move. 

If Bro notices, there’s no indication.

“I’ve missed you,” you say after a moment. “We really need to just tell Dave or something so that we can spend more time together.”

“Yeah, that’d be nice,” Bro sighs. His breath ruffles your hair, and you shiver slightly. “I just don’t want him to flip his shit, you know?”

“Yeah,” you murmur. You tilt your head just enough to kiss Bro’s collarbone, and this time, his breath catches obviously. You smirk to yourself before continuing, “and I don’t think my house is really an option, huh.”

“Yeah, no, I don’t need your dad wondering why a th- why an old dude is coming over to hang out with you,” Bro snorts.

You open your mouth to say something about the movie, but what comes out instead is the question that Bro’s statement just brought back into your mind: “Bro, how old are you?”

Bro sighs, and you can feel him tense up against you. “Why do you want to know, John?”

You kiss his collarbone again, hoping to loosen him up a little. “I’m just curious, okay?”

“Okay,” he mutters. Bro reaches up and takes his shades off, placing them on the bedside counter and turning to face you. WIthout his shades on, a sight you usually only see once all the lights have been turned off, you can see the beginnings of wrinkles at the corners of his bright eyes, the sharp angles of his face, the age - not much, but enough - written on his skin. “I”m thirty-one,” Bro admits. “Thirty-two in April.”

You stare up at him without saying anything for a moment. That’s a bit older than you thought, yeah, but it’s not really that bad. “Okay,” you finally say, simply. Then you lean up and kiss him.

Bro melts into the kiss almost instantly, one hand coming up to cup the back of your head, the other resting against your cheek. He’s one of the best kissers you’ve ever met, and before you know it, you’re on your back, Bro above you, trying your best not to moan out loud. 

One of Bro’s hands, still half-covered by a smooth leather glove, slides up the front of your shirt and brushes over your nipple. You whimper, and he catches the sound in another kiss.

“Bro…” you whisper. You don’t know what you’re going to say - if you’re going to tell him to keep going, if you’re going to brush away the hand currently teasing at the hem of your shirt - but Bro fills the silence before you can decide. 

“Dirk,” he tells you, leaning forward just enough to drop his words in your ear. “My name’s Dirk. Can I take your shirt off?”

“_Yes_,” you say, and then just to try it out, you gasp, “Fuck, Dirk.” And god, it suits him perfectly.

He lets out a soft groan when you say his name, then turns his focus to pushing your shirt up and off of your body. You shiver slightly when the cool air of his room hits your skin, but the cold is quickly replaced by Dirk’s insistent body heat. 

“Tell me if this is too far, okay?” he says as one of his hands travels down across your stomach and comes to a tentative halt at the waistband of your pajama pants. 

You whine, hands clutching at the back of his tank top, using pretty much all of your self control to not just start humping him. “O-okay,” you gasp out, and he slides your pants and boxers down in one swift move.

Dirk pauses for a moment, moving both hands to either side of you to hold himself up. You can see the muscles in his arms and shoulders tensing with the effort, and the heat in your lower belly doubles. _Fuck._

After catching his breath, Dirk reaches up to tenderly brush your hair out of your eyes, and your heart as well as your entire lower body melts. “I’m not going to fuck you, not tonight,” he says softly. “Not until you’re ready. But can I touch you?”

Your self-control shatters at the thought of Dirk fucking you, and your hips jerk up against his crotch, where he’s unmistakably hard. “_Please._”

“Fuck, John,” he swears. “You make me feel so - fuck.” Dirk gives up on words and just reaches down between your legs, his goddamn fingers sliding into every place that almost hurts from how good it feels.

A broken noise that you almost can’t believe belongs to you falls from your mouth, and you whine when Dirk’s hand gently nudges your legs farther apart.

“You’re so fucking hot, babe,” Dirk says, leaning down to kiss you again. He slides his index finger inside of you, teasing, as his thumb starts to rub at your clit, steady and ohsogood. “I’ve wanted to do this for so long.”

You’re past coherent words, simply settling for crying out Dirk’s name as he finds _that_ spot and you come, shaking against the bed and his fingers. Jesus Christ. 

Once some of your mental facilities have returned to you, you sit up, trying to reach for Dirk in an attempt to return the favor, but he just catches your hand in his and pulls it away. “I, um. I really enjoyed doing that,” he says, cheeks light pink as he laughs. “I’m not going to be able to … uh, do anything else for a bit.”

Your cheeks flush as well once you realize what Dirk is implying. Holy shit, you can’t believe you made _Dirk fucking Strider_ come in his pants. 

“Well, I guess we can finish the movie while we wait,” you say, stretching as your body and mind return to you. You curl into Dirk’s side once more, somehow not self-conscious despite being naked, and close your eyes.

You’re asleep before the credits roll.


End file.
